This week started with toast.
Not metaphorically, a single, precise slice of shokupan sliding into a machine that treats bread with the seriousness it deserves. From there, it was a short trip over the mountain to Otsu, and some good vibes, I probably should have set up months ago, and a lake big enough to make Kyoto feel like a distant memory.
Grab a seat. Let's dive in.
01 / THE PULSE - The Lake Biwa Reset
Kyoto is a city of layers and enclosures, but just over the mountain, Otsu offers a different kind of breathing room.
This image captures the exact frequency I’m tuned into lately: that wide-open, lakeside stillness where the horizon actually has space to exist. It’s about the contrast the sharp, cold blue of the mountains against the sun-dried textures of the shore.
Just a reminder that "home" in Japan isn't just the crowded streets; it’s these quiet, peripheral moments of transition.
02 / THE BREW - Yurel Otsu
Sometimes the best way to appreciate Kyoto is to leave it.
A short hop over the pass leads to Otsu, where the air feels thinner and the pace slows to match the ripples of Lake Biwa. Yurel isn't just another minimalist box. It’s the project of an ex-%Arabica head barista, and that pedigree shows in the workflow.
The centerpiece is the counter, clad in deep, sea-blue tiles that mirror the lake’s depths. It’s a striking departure from the predictable plywood-and-gray aesthetic we see everywhere else.
While Otsu is slowly waking up to specialty coffee, Yurel sets a high bar. They lean on local roasters like Kaffe TaK, delivering a cup that is as intentional as the architecture. It’s a quiet, sun-drenched sanctuary that makes the trip across the border feel like a necessary ritual.
03 / THE SPIN - Orion Sun, Hold Space For me
Intimate, soulful, and deeply textured. This album has been on heavy rotation in the studio lately, providing the perfect acoustic backdrop for deep-focus work.
Tiffany Majette (aka Orion Sun) has a way of making vulnerability feel like a position of strength. It’s minimalist soul that rewards a proper speaker setup production that actually gives the vocals enough room to breathe without being crowded by unnecessary layers.
Tracks like "Lightning" or "Coffee" aren't just songs; they are atmospheric studies in space and timing. It’s the kind of record that makes you appreciate the silence between the notes as much as the melodies themselves.
04 / THE SIGNAL - The Space Toaster
I’m calling it: this is the best purchase I’ve made since moving to Japan four years ago. Forget everything you know about traditional toasters that simply dry out your bread. The Mitsubishi TO-ST1-T or the "Space Toaster" as I call it
IT’s a single-slice sensory chamber. It uses a sealed, thermal-pressure system to treat the bread with the kind of reverence usually reserved for a tea ceremony. The result is a daily ritual I can't live without: a crust that is perfectly crisp while the inside remains impossibly pillowy and moist.
It’s a completely different league of texture. Of course, the machine is only half the story to truly unlock its potential, you need to feed it high-quality shokupan (Japanese milk bread). When those two worlds collide, it’s peak morning efficiency.
05 / THE THOUGHT - The Architecture of the Shokupan
As a Frenchman, my relationship with bread is sacred. But four years in Kyoto have converted me to a different kind of cult: the Shokupan.
Kyoto is secretly a bakery city, and there is a specific joy in the ritual of choosing your loaf, deciding on the exact thickness of the slice, from the thin "8-slice" cut to the doorstep-thick "4-slice" slabs.
It doesn’t try to be a baguette; it doesn’t compete with a sourdough. It is its own category of pillowy, milk-heavy luxury. Feeding a thick slice of high-end artisan bread into a precision machine has become one of those small, non-negotiable pleasures of my life in Japan.
It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most sophisticated thing you can do is appreciate the perfect texture of a simple piece of toast.
That's it for this week. I just uploaded a new video on my channel this weekend, and it's a special one, because it closes out my Onomichi series. After the sea, the cat kingdom, and the shotengai, we're now heading to the most beautiful part of the city: the hill.
If you haven't watched the previous three episodes yet, they're all available on the channel. But this one is the grand finale, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved making it.
Stay grounded, and see you next week.
-Nicolas
